


Open a Tab

by Tarvera



Series: Silver Moon Bar [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: After care, Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Bartender Chris Argent, Dom Chris Argent, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Light BDSM, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sub Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:01:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28118859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarvera/pseuds/Tarvera
Summary: He’d honestly thought he would never see the kid again after that Wednesday night. Stiles had woken up Thursday morning in a frenzy of flailing limbs, panicked ramblings and shouted apologies. The kid had buzzed out of the apartment so fast, he’d been sure he could see smoke in the wake of him. All that work had gone out the window when, the next Wednesday, the whirlwind that was Stiles Stilinski came torpedoing back into his bar. He’d stared at the kid, somewhat stunned, but unable to help the smile on his lips when Stiles had paused to look at him anxiously.OR I couldn't help myself and wrote another bit of my Bar AU with Stiles/Chris.
Relationships: Chris Argent/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Silver Moon Bar [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2059980
Comments: 25
Kudos: 220
Collections: Bar AU





	Open a Tab

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TellMeNoAgain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TellMeNoAgain/gifts).



> Special thank you to TellMeNoAgain for the help in both the BDSM dynamics and what it is actually like to work in a bar. I'm kind in love with this little AU I've carved out here so there will likely be more drabbles coming at some point.

He’d honestly thought he would never see the kid again after that Wednesday night. Stiles had woken up Thursday morning in a frenzy of flailing limbs, panicked ramblings and shouted apologies. The kid had buzzed out of the apartment so fast, he’d been sure he could see smoke in the wake of him. 

He’d just shrugged and fallen back asleep. He liked to think of himself as a pragmatic man (pessimist, a voice whispered in his head that sounded suspiciously like his daughter) and there was no way, a young thing like Stiles would be interested in more than a fuck with someone like him. 

None of this practical thinking had been successful in stopping him from waking up a couple nights later, rock hard with a dream lingering in his mind of pressing into that beautifully responsive body. He’d given up and jerked himself off, rough and fast, thinking of how the kid’s lips might look, wrapped around his cock. Swearing to himself after he had finished, he had determinedly pushed more thoughts of Stiles to the back of his mind. 

All that work had gone out the window when, the next Wednesday, the whirlwind that was Stiles Stilinski came torpedoing back into his bar. He’d stared at the kid, somewhat stunned, but unable to help the smile on his lips when Stiles had paused to look at him anxiously. It was earlier than the other times and the kid had a backpack with him. He’d gestured to the end of the bar and winked, enjoying the hot flush on the boy’s face and neck. 

Stiles had worked on homework for the first part of the night before gleefully throwing himself into the neverending war between Hank and Doc. The two men had accepted the new arrival with aplomb and both eagerly went to work on getting the kid on their side. Stiles had masterfully kept both of them going, even soothing some old hurts out through humor and expressive sarcasm. 

That night, after close, Stiles helped him clean up again. The nervousness had returned and after several anxious looks, Chris had enough and crowded Stiles against the back wall. 

“Something you want, kid?” He said, murmuring the words in a flushing ear and enjoying the stuttered breathing. 

Determination had entered the kid’s brown eyes. “Yeah…” 

The kiss was a bit desperate at first but also a bit perfect. Chris found himself getting lost in it for a moment, enjoying the feel of the body pressed up against his and the delightful moans he got when he bit at plush lips. 

“Shit, kid, you’re gonna be the death of me, I swear.” 

A wicked gleam had appeared in Stiles’ eyes. “Yeah? Well, deal with it, tough guy.” 

Pressing harder into the lithe body, he had dived back in to suck marks down the kid’s neck. Coming back up up for breath, something satisfied curled in his gut at the wrecked look in the kid’s eyes. “Want you on your knees for me, can you do that pretty boy?” 

“Yes, sir…” Stiles’ breathed out the words, eyes dilated and breath ragged. 

“Fuck.” Damn if that sir hadn’t made his dick throb. Running a hand through the kid’s hair, he made himself pause for a moment. Stiles already looked gone, lost in lust and eagerness. He had to be the responsible one here, forcing himself to take a ragged breath he said, “Is this ok? Stiles, look at me, I need to know you’re with me here.” 

Visibly centering himself, Stiles had gulped and nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I’m here, it’s ok. God, Chris, call me pretty boy again, please, pull my hair, push me down, shit, please.” 

“Fuck.” he said again, his breathing ragged and heavy. “Ok, you slap my leg if you need me to stop, got it?” At the kid’s nod, he reached up and tangled his fingers in tousled hair. “Verbal Stiles, I need you to say it.” 

“Yes, slap your leg, got it. Please Chris, please Sir.” 

“On your knees then, pretty boy.” Pressing down with his hand at the command, Stiles dropped instantly, hands fumbling at his belt and zipper. Swearing, he managed to move them around so he could lean his back against the wall. Fuck, if this wasn’t making him almost lose it right now. 

His cock was pulled out with nimble fingers, tight and cool against his own fevered skin. Letting his head thunk back against the wall, he tightened his grip and made the kid go slowly down on him. The hot mouth was everything he needed, the tongue lapped at his head as he took a moment to settle himself. 

Thrusting up made Stiles’ moan, he felt the kid’s hands reach out to grip at his thighs. Something guttural growled up and out of him and he began to thrust in earnest. “Look at you, pretty thing, love your lips on my cock, boy. You’ll take everything I give you, won’t you boy?” 

Half choking, Stiles nodded even as he felt the back of his cock nudge up against the kid’s throat. Watching his cock move in and out of those plush lips he groaned, low and deep. Letting his head hit the wall, he lost himself in that sensation of wet heat and suction. Heat traveled down his body, making his balls tighten. He felt alive as he hadn’t in a long time. “Going to come down your throat boy. You swallow what I give you.” 

The kid’s hands tightened on his legs and with one more thrust, he was coming. Stiles swallowed and sucked, holding it all in. Loosening his hold, he gently rubbed at the kid’s face. “Good boy, look at you, all flushed and aching. You did such a good job for me.” 

Dragging the kid up, he claimed another kiss while he steadily worked the kid’s fly open and took the aching cock in hand. “Gonna spill for me quick, boy? Show me how much you liked that, on your knees, your mouth full of my cock, looked so pretty down there, all swollen and flushed. So good for me, pretty boy.” 

Stiles came with a cry, shaking and trembling. Chris wrapped him up in tight arms, peppering his face and mouth with kisses. He’d pulled Stiles back upstairs with him, cleaned them up and then fallen into bed in a mess of tangled limbs. He’d been sure that would be it then. But the next Wednesday Stiles was back again and the next and the next. 

Soon, the kid showed up on a Friday night, then a Saturday. His regulars were all rough, blue collar types and gave the kid serious side eye at first. Stiles though, proved adept at charming anyone and soon had them all eating out of his hand. He gave the kid his phone number and was instantly inundated with a constant commentary on the kid’s life. It wasn’t until after three months of all this that he woke up on a Monday morning wrapped around Stiles’ naked body that it hit him. Shit, fuck, he was in a relationship with the kid.

* * *

Stiles didn’t really know why he had gone back to the bar and Chris for the third Wednesday in a row. While the sex had been out of this world amazing, he knew he shouldn’t go back or he’d get attached. Working on a masters in physcology had done a lot of things for him but one of them was definitely knowing how with his history that he was too quick to cling to a steady relationship in his life. 

So he’d tried to talk himself out of it the whole week. Chris was too old. Chris only wanted sex. It would distract him from school. The list could keep going on and on but in the end, it was that sweet way the man had asked, “May I kiss you, Stiles?”, that brought him back to the bar the next Wednesday. God, he was an idiot. But at least he was going to be a very sexually satisfied idiot. 

He hadn’t realized how much he was hoping for a Sir until the honorific had come out instinctually and Chris looked like he was about to flip Stiles over and fuck into him just like that. The fuzzy need and want had been so strong that he’d totally forgotten all the things he knew he was supposed to do in these moments. But there Chris had been, steady, confident and totally safe. 

It was that feeling of safety that brought him back the next Wednesday, then the next and then a Friday night, and he just kept coming back. He hoped it meant that for once in his life he wasn’t making a disaster of a relationship choice. The first Friday night he’d gone had been the most nerve racking. There had been a peer group project meeting that evening which meant he hadn’t been able to get there until almost eight pm. 

The bar was crowded and rowdy. It was almost too much for him but then Hank had seen him and dragged him up to the bar to sit next to the older man. Hank had just looked at the man in the stool and the man rolled his eyes but moved over one. 

“Oh, it’s ok, sorry, I --” 

“It’s fine kid, Al don’t mind moving.” 

“Speak fur yirself Hank.” The man grumbled but waved off Stiles’ concern with a grunt. “Whatcha doing here, then? Hank, this yir kid?” 

Hank scoffed. “Like fuck I reproduced for the world. Naw, he’s Chris’ twink.” 

Stiles sunk down in the stool, blushing and vaguely considered hiding under the bar. Hank had spoken loudly enough that their entire side of the bar fell quiet so that even Chris noticed from the other side. 

The bar owner wandered over to them, eyebrows raised at the all the staring patrons. “Stiles,” he said evenly, “how’s it going?” 

“Uh, hi.” Why wouldn’t the ground just swallow him now? Shit, what if he shouldn’t have come here when there were others? What if Chris was embarrassed by him and told him to go? Shame crawled up his spine and stared down at the counter. A hand landed on the back of his head curling down to rest on his neck. 

Tentatively he looked up and let out a breath at the soft smile on Chris’ face. The hand tugged at his nape, pulling him up and capturing his lips in a firm kiss. The men around them all hooted and stomped their feet. Blushing even harder, he pulled back to grin at Chris. The man gave a soothing rub down his shoulder then turned back to the crowd. 

“It’s like you lot never seen a man kiss another man. Now, who’s on their third round?” 

A cheer went up and after a few heavy claps on the shoulder, the men settled down again. Still feeling a little a little off kilter, he kept his hands on the drink Chris pushed into them and tried to ignore the appraising glances he was given. As the night went on, it got easier to relax and he couldn’t help but get pulled into a debate between two guys, who looked like they could bench press five of him, about if lemurs were monkeys or something else. 

By the time Chris was kicking everyone out at midnight, he was feeling much better about everything. When Chris trapped him up against the bar and kissed him until his legs got wobbly, he felt even better. Finally, Chris tugged on his neck, drawing him back to look him in the eyes. 

“Surprised me tonight, pretty boy.” 

Blushing again, he resisted the urge to look down. “Sorry Sir.” 

Chuckling, Chris leaned back in to nip along his jaw. “Don’t be sorry, boy, I liked the surprise. Let me claim you too, in front of all of them.” Heat swept through him at the words and he moaned as Chris’ lips started to suck what was sure to be a bruise on his neck. “You like that, pretty boy? Like being claimed by me?” 

“Yes, Sir…shit…” 

“Good. I liked it too. Here we go then.” Before he could register, Chris’ strong hands were lifting up and settling him on the counter. Rucking up his shirt, the man went to work kissing down his chest. “All right, sweet thing, lets take the edge off then we’ll go upstairs and I’ll fuck you till you can’t walk straight, sound good?” 

“Yes, sir.” The words came out choked because Chris had already undone his belt and within seconds was fishing out his cock. 

“There we go, already hard for me, good boy.” 

Making a strangled noise, he tentatively grabbed the edge of Chris’ shirt. The man’s eyes were dark and his hand steady as he pulled and pumped at Stiles’ cock in maddening slowness. 

“Stiles, you with me?” 

“Yes, yes, with you Chris.” 

“Good, sweetheart, good. Now, I want you to lean back, hands flat on the bartop, can you do that for me, pretty boy?” 

Tentatively, he did as Chris asked, feeling nervous as he tried to shift back. “Chris I’ll fall.” 

“No you won’t, just lean back, sweetheart, I’ve got you. Do you trust your Sir, boy?” 

Swallowing heavily, he nodded. “Yes, Sir.

“Good boy, say red if you want me to stop, understood?” 

“Say red for stop, yes sir.” He groaned then as Chris pressed up tight, holding his knees against the bar and pressing him to lay back with the other hand. 

“All the way flat, just like that, good job sweetheart, you’re gonna let me take care of you, just like this.” 

Lying back with just his ass and part of his thighs anchored to the counter by Chris’ strong arm, he gasped at the sensation. It was almost like he was floating in the air. Chris soothed a hand down his chest, murmuring praises at him. Closing his eyes, he took deep breaths, focusing the sensation of Chris’ hand running over his skin and the floaty weightlessness of lying in the air. 

Something cool hit his cock and he gasped at the sensation before it was fisted in a tight grip. His hips bucked up which pushed his back back when his back arched. It felt like flying as that tight grip took up a steady rhythm. A thumb flicked over his slit, moans and curse words flew out of his mouth. 

“Chris, shit, fuck...sir...please…” 

“Please what, pretty boy? Tell Sir what you need.” 

He was shaking now, desperate with the need to come, he just wanted to let go. He’d never felt like this before, his whole body felt like it would float away at any moment. The only thing anchoring him there was the steady arm around his knees. The contact anchored him, steadied him and made his whole body course with pleasure. This was what trust was and he wasn’t sure he’d ever trusted someone so much as he was in this moment, right here. 

“Need to cum, please Sir…” 

“Of course, cum for me sweet thing.” 

He screamed as he came, his voice strangled, his vision sparking. Everything was amazing and perfect. Just when he thought he was floating away forever, a firm hand reeled him back in. Releasing a shuddering breath, he tangled his fists in Chris’ shirt and held on tight. 

“Good boy, such a good pretty boy for me, Stiles, you did so well. I’ve got you sweetheart, let’s go upstairs and cuddle for a bit, shall we?” 

Not trusting his voice, he nodded, refusing to let go. Lips pressed against his forehead and Chris hummed slightly before scooping him up in strong arms. Everything felt so good, it felt so right. 

“Glad I found you.” He said, tucking his head under Chris’ chin. 

“I’m glad you found me too, sweet boy.”


End file.
